


Loneliness

by RedSnow1



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Light Angst, London, Love Letters, Mutual Pining, New York City, Nifflers, Photographs, missing each others, newtina, sad characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-16 15:25:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17552225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedSnow1/pseuds/RedSnow1
Summary: "Carefully, with the tip of his trembling finger, he removed a rebellious lock of dark hair from her face, the way he had done it on the docks. The witch in the moving picture smiled even wider at the gesture, glowing with joy. He smiled back, drowning into the starless night in her eyes."Newt and Tina miss each others dearly. He has no news from her, she refuses to write to him. On one special night, the both of them try to deal with their crippling loneliness.One-Shot





	Loneliness

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello again,
> 
> Another Newtina One-Shot for you, inspired by an fan-art I saw on twitter (sorry I couldn't find it, but it represented Newt staring at Tina's picture in his case, and removing a lock of hair out of her face : it was really sweet and it tickled my inspiration). I hope you enjoy reading it !
> 
> Quick reminder : I am French and was not corrected for this work. I do make mistakes even though I try my best not to. I sincerely apologise if it bothers you. I hope it won't :)
> 
> Enjoy !

Newt Scamander was not used to feeling lonely. It was perhaps why it hurt so much. Even as  a child, he had never particularly felt the need to communicate with other human beings : his creatures were always more than enough to him. He played with them, talked to them whenever he felt like something was bothering him, nursed and loved them. They never judged him, never abandoned his side, listened to his confessions with utmost interest and care : they were his family, the kind of family he needed more than anything.

Of course, he had a real family, which was more than some people even had. A loving mother, a hard-working father, and a big brother. What more could he desire ? Though, he and Theseus had rarely played together, when they were both little : the youngest brother avoided his company for he was a brutal sibling, finding great pleasure in teasing him. Newton had always been a dreamer, which seemed to amuse his very down-on-earth brother, who liked to snap him out of his thoughts. Theseus had always been the logical one who abided by the rules. Newt was more of an artist who followed his heart more than the law. They had always loved each others dearly, though. They just couldn’t get along, mostly because they never agreed on anything.

Theseus’s greatness had suffocated him when they were younger, he who was so different from any other kids.

Then, there was Leta. Leta for whom he would have taken down the moon in hope to see her smile. Leta who had occupied his heart and mind for so many years. Yet, no matter how much he had been in love with her, he had never longed for her presence quite that way. It was a one sided love, that much he knew, which is perhaps the reason he had never gotten his hopes up. They could never be together. Especially not since she was to marry his own brother. But no matter what happened, he had never missed her that way. No, this was a powerful, overwhelming feeling he had never experienced before.

Not with Theseus. Not with Leta. Not with anyone.

Newt glanced around, making sure that his creatures were settled for the night. The niffler was comfortably laying on his golden pile of coins, the occamys nestled against each others and the Kelpie had gone out of sight, far away deep into his lair. He had just finished taking care of them all, and as the moon shone above his head, as the next day was getting closer, his chest ached with the emptiness of his existence. There was no greater pain than knowing what he needed, yet, being unable to get it.

He needed her. She was just out of his reach.

He glanced down at his watch. It was almost midnight.

Tomorrow would be February 24th. Tomorrow, he would be thirty. And for the first time in his life, Newt Scamander didn’t want to spend his birthday alone. Aging didn’t exactly matter to him : it was the course of life. But he felt like this was a big step. A big step he wished he didn’t have to cross on his own.

He had never felt more lonely.

He knew that all he had to do was to apparate in Diagon Alley, where he would find his brother Theseus at the Leaky Cauldron with his friends from the ministry. Their colleagues. Perhaps even his dear fiancé. They would probably welcome him warmly as he never joined their little parties. They always teased him about it, no matter how many times he had told them that he didn’t fit in, that crowds scared him. Would it be such a bad idea to join just this one ? At least, he would be able to tear his mind away from his mixed feelings. All he had to do was to cast the spell. But it wasn’t them he wanted to see. His heart longed for something else. For someone else.

He sighed, letting himself fall onto his chair, down in his basement and buried his face into his hands. His fingers gripped on his tousled hair as he rubbed his eyes, trying to escape his own thoughts. With a accidental jab of the elbow, parchments rolled off the wooden surface of the table, and fell down around him like a flower losing its petals. They were filled with scribbles for his now published book, or unfinished letters to the woman who had stolen his heart. Bending down, he picked up one of his last draft left incomplete and painfully ripped the piece of paper apart before throwing it away out of his sight. He missed her.

His creatures were soundly asleep, Bunty had left many hours ago. He was left alone with his thoughts. He was left alone missing them. Missing her.

He sometimes wondered whether they thought about him as well, if they ever considered visiting him, here, in London. If Jacob remembered just a smidge of what happened to them, if he remembered him at all. Somehow, Newt hoped that his bakery was a success, that he was happy, wherever he was. He deserved it. Jacob Kowalski was by far, the best man he had ever met, both courageous and caring. He was his best friend. His only real friend. Even if he couldn’t remember him.

The wizard couldn’t help but think about Queenie, hoping she had managed to survive without her favorite muggle, curious to know whether she was still the most joyful witch he ever had the pleasure to encounter. He wanted to believe that she was. He liked to imagine her cooking her most amazing meals with the most radiant smile on her face, dancing around the kitchen and making cocoa for her sister.

He smiled, softly. What would he give to see them again. To see her.

Because Porpentina Goldstein was the one to haunt his mind and dreams. At night, he would often find himself wondering how her day at work went, if getting her job back had filled her with joy. He hoped she wasn’t putting herself in danger, though he knew what a capable woman she was, and that she would be fine. He worried constantly that she wasn’t getting enough sleep, that she was not treated well by her colleagues and superiors. He couldn’t help but ask himself if she thought of him the way he did. If she missed him as much as he missed her. Maybe it was bold of him to inquire such things, considering none of them had made a move towards each others that day, on the docks. But he had felt something.

A sparkle. The promise of a shining future.

His weary eyes fell upon his closed suitcase, lying on the table, and his hands carefully caressed its surface. The magizoologist hesitated. He had not opened it in a while since he had moved all of his dear beasts down in his very own basement. While nothing in there could be dangerous, he had to admit that he was quite afraid of what it might enravel. Of the secrets that were held inside of this simple looking suitcase.

The lid opened, only to reveal a familiar face he hadn’t been able to forget. It was just a picture from the paper, and it was the only thing he had to remember her by. A soft smile sprayed on his chapped lips as he observed her. His heart trembled upon remembering the softness of her cheek beneath his finger, the warmth of her skin as he so lightly touched it. In his mind, her laughter echoed, her voice, screaming his name in the dark... And her smile. Her smile when he had promised her to come back… The tears that had filled her dark eyes, small drops of water he had wanted to erase. She was so utterly beautiful back then… She was just as dazzling on this picture. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. Maybe it was the way she grinned happily, her soft lips radiating with pride, or the way her beautiful eyes sparkled, yet, not quite the way he had witnessed it those days in New York, that made him realise how much he longed for her presence. Especially right now.

He exhaled sadly. How could he miss her so much when he barely knew her ?

Carefully, with the tip of his trembling finger, he removed a rebellious lock of dark hair from her face, the way he had done it on the docks. The witch in the moving picture smiled even wider at the gesture, glowing with joy. He smiled back, drowning into the starless night in her eyes. Then, upon realising what he had just done, the wizard blushed, hiding his eyes under his fringe, cowering away from her gaze.

 

“You — You have the most beautiful smile I have ever seen.” He heard himself whisper out loud, head down.

 

Newt Scamander winced : he was absolutely ridiculous, talking to her as if she were here, with him. Yet, he couldn’t help but find comfort in the magical picture, couldn’t help but feel less isolated, here, with her. It’s not like she could answer his worries, or reassure him, but this was all he could do, all he could have. It was better than nothing. So, he caved in. He settled comfortably at his desk, facing her in a way he had never done before, ready to finally give in and tell her what his heart screamed for her to hear. Even though she was not here. Even though she would never be.

 

“I hope you are well, Tina.” He earnestly said, running his hand through his hair in embarrassment.

 

It had been a while since he had been updated on the Goldstein’s whereabouts. Months since Tina and Queenie had written to him. Last time he had heard of them, everything seemed fine. Queenie appeared rather busy creating clothes (which, he had understood, was her new hobby) and Tina was working hard, as he knew she would be, on a way to chase down Grindelwald. She had expressed her thoughts on that matter in her last letter, letting him know how affected she had been by the criminal’s escape. It reminded her how they failed Credence, how he died in front of their eyes because they hadn’t been able to protect him. He had felt the same, but had tried to comfort her the best way he could.

He could only hope that she was happy. It was all he wanted for her : to be happy. No matter how, no matter with whom. She deserved the world, and even more, for she was the most incredible person he had the pleasure to meet. His heart clenched. _He loved her_. How this that happen ? Newt had never asked for any of this : after Leta, and his unreturned love, he had promised himself he would never fall for another woman that way. But Tina -- Tina had crept into his heart quietly, and before he had realised it, it was too late. She had invaded his thoughts and mind, had stolen his heart away from him. It was too late. He was already in love with her.

 

“I just wish you would answer my letters, Tina… It’s been… two months… And well I — You see — I—”

 

He stopped, hurt, head down, now staring at his fingers anxiously fiddleling against his will.

She had stopped answering. They were doing great, both very committed to this correspondence and one day… she just stopped. He had tried to understand why, had sent many letter to inquire of her health, of her life in New York City. She had not answered any of them. He had considered asking Queenie, but had discarded the idea almost immediately. He didn’t want to be this kind of person. If Tina wanted to answer, she would, of her own will. Besides, she was most probably busy with work. She would get back to him as soon as things settled. That’s what he had tried to convince himself for the past few weeks. But another part of him assumed the worst had happened. What if she was hurt ? No. Queenie, someone would have told him. Had he said something wrong ? He knew he could be clumsy from time to time. What if she had moved on ? Had she ? What if she didn’t like him the same way ?

Nevertheless, he waited for her owls. Everyday. He missed her letters. Receiving them was the highlight of his weeks, for he always seemed to wait for them impatiently. Missed her writing. Plain but elegant. Missed her descriptions about her jobs, and the futile little details he loved to read. His green eyes watered as he felt a lump forming in his throat. The young auror kept on smiling at him, oblivious from the inside of his case.

 

“I tried to get back to New York -- Four times. I-- They didn’t lift my travel ban, you know. I was hoping it would work -- I was hoping maybe this time… I could deliver my book in person.”

 

Damned Theseus and his teams of aurors. Why wouldn’t they let him leave, when all he wanted was to deliver a harmless book that belonged to its owner ? Damned the ministry for keeping him away from the woman he had fallen for. For keeping him from fulfilling his promise. He wasn’t working for Dumbledore. He wasn’t working for anyone. He just wanted her. Needed to see her.

Damned destiny that seemed to play with the both of them. Damned the ocean that separated their souls.

Damn them all.

But most importantly, damned his shyness that had kept him for doing what he had desired. He should have kissed her, that day, on the docks. He can still see her face, the sun on her beautiful, bright features. Her dark eyes filled with tears. He should have kissed her sadness away, and he had wanted to. _Bugger_ , he had wanted to. He wasn’t sure at the time that his tenderness would be well-received, Tina being so hard to read. He should have kissed her. He should have had been clear about his growing feelings towards her. Maybe if he had, everything would have been different. He smiled bitterly, lowering his head in defeat.

 

“I’m so sorry Tina. I feel like I keep failing you… I just -- I wanted you to know that -- I -- I won’t forget the promise I made. I won’t forget -- I won’t forget you.”

 

_How can I forget how you make my heart beat ?_

_How can I forget how much you have changed me ?_

_How am I supposed to forget you, when all I see is your smile, when all I hear is your laugh, when all I feel is the warmth of your touch ?_

_I won’t forget you, Tina. Even if I am to never see you again. Even if you never answer to me._

_I have grown quite fond of you._

 

“And I -- I wish you were here.” He admitted, tears in his eyes. He couldn’t take it anymore.

 

“Colloportus” He whispered.

 

And suddenly, the lid closed, never to be opened again. Tina Goldstein disappeared from his sight, but her memory remained fresh in his heart. Loneliness filled his entire being again as a single tear escaped from his clear eyes. He didn’t do anything to hide it, he accepted his sorrow, letting its result roll down his cheeks only to die at the edge of his jaw. Another one followed, and more and more came to wet his face. He had always hated crying. But he had to admit that it felt good, to relieve all the tension he was bearing on his shoulders. Never had he imagined that he would be spending his thirtieth birthday weeping in his apartment basement, surrounded by his beasts, after talking to the picture of the woman he loved. He sighed a couple of times, trying to get the strength to move, but remained limp on his chair.

He was too tired to leave.

A little squeaking sound made him turn around, alert and focused, and Newt noticed that his niffler had woken up, and was trying to get his attention. How he escaped his golden cell was to remain a mystery, and quite honestly, the magizoologist couldn’t care less. He carefully took the little animal in his hands, and set him down on his legs, trying to understand what he wanted. He didn’t seem hungry, or looking for gold. The niffler had that look in his eyes, and for a moment there, the british wizard thought he could see pity. The creature slowly climbed his chest, his paws leaving grey marks on his white shirt, until it nestled onto his neck, providing him comfort between the cold walls of his enchanted basement. The young Scamander bit his lips, touched by the beast’s attention. His hand carefully caressed the animal’s fur, appreciating the warmth of the embrace.

Outside, Big Ben rang.

 

“Happy birthday to me.” He sorrowfully whispered.

 

* * *

 

 

The silence was oppressive.

She was not used to it. Maybe it was why it suffocated her that way.

Growing up, even when their parents were alive, their house was always filled with joy, laughter and music. Their mother was quite fond of jazz, which had just begun to spread in the United States, so, whenever they were home, she would play her favorite tunes and dance to them. She was quite graceful, their mother, with her golden curls that followed her every moves and deep affectionate eyes that sparkled with wit. Many times, the three of them had ended up following her, waltzing in the living room happily. Like a family.

Queenie would twirl in their father’s arms, laughing, holding his hands tight, while she would remain with her mother, trying to learn how to swing from the best teacher she could ever hope for. Mrs. Goldstein looked just like Queenie which was frightening sometimes. In every grin, in every move, she could see the ghost of her long gone mother.

They had died. Dragon Pox had whisked them away from the two of them. Tina had kept the jazz vinyl her parents owned so that the silence wouldn’t be deafening. They played the songs whenever they missed them, remembering together, how it felt like to feel safe. How it felt like not to be alone in this cruel world. Even though they were not. They had each others. She had Queenie. Queenie and her loud laugh, her grace and her contagious good mood. Queenie who liked to gossip and chatter about anything, filling every second of silence with her luminous voice. Queenie who had never let her down.

The auror had to admit that having her little sister by her side had helped her in so many ways. She was an anchor, the only person she had ever relied on. Queenie was the only person who knew her, and accepted her for who she was, no matter how plain or boring she thought she could be. Queenie saw the beauty in her, and kept telling her how gorgeous she looked when she doubted herself.

People usually gave her all the credits for raising the blonde witch : it wasn’t true. They had taken care of each others, had protected themselves. It had been the both of them against the world, and so far, they had won.

So far.

Tina glanced at the fire, biting her lips, watching the flames dancing around like their mother used to. 679 West 24th Street was way too quiet for such a beautiful winter day. The streets were empty, the sun had gone out a few hours ago, and Mrs. Esposito hadn’t yet returned from her last minute shopping. It was almost seven, she had left work quite early for once. She wished she hadn’t though. This certainly didn’t feel like home.

Too quiet. Too cold. Too many thoughts on her mind.

She eyed at the refrigerator, hoping to find something easy to make for dinner tonight since she would be eating alone. Nothing tempted her. Not even the leftovers. She settled for a simple can of soup found forgotten in a cupboard. She left it in the counter for later, should she be hungry. Her mind wasn’t really there.

She was alone. Queenie had left a few days ago after a nasty fight. Queenie had left, and hadn’t returned ever since. Porpentina couldn’t even get a hold of her at work, for she seemed to avoid her. Why wouldn’t she ? She had been hurt.

The brunette sighed. She quite appreciated Jacob, no matter what the golden-haired witch seemed to think. He was a kind, generous man who loved her sister deeply. What more could she hope for ? But he was a No-Maj’. While she didn’t mind, relationships between magic and non-magic people were still forbidden. It was the law. No one was above the law. Queenie was facing jail. Jacob would have to be obliviated. She couldn’t let that happen. She just couldn’t. She had sworn to protect her sister.

Tina had tried to explain her point. Had hoped she would at least listen. It was in vain. Maybe she had been too brutal. Maybe she had acted more like an auror and less of a sister. Queenie had left, crying, screaming that she never wanted to see her again. She left to live her ideal life with the man she loved.

And somehow, the brunette admired her for it. She had the guts to fight for what she wanted, in the name of love. She was passionate and listened to her heart.

But home was empty without her constant babbling and her everlasting happiness. Somehow, Tina blessed MACUSA for deporting her to Europe to chase down Grindelwald. Paris was awaiting for her and while the prospect of leaving America was frightening, the idea of leaving everything behind, her worries, her problems, to put everything on hold for a while filled her with relief.

Her case was ready. It had been for a few days. She would be leaving first thing in the morning. Maybe it could help escape the numbing silence of the night ? Escape the loneliness of the life she was currently living ? She doubted it. But she hoped. It was the only thing she could do. Hope and Wait.

Tina sighed. With a twist of her wrist, the old phonograph began to play a slow jazz music. She closed her eyes, trying to appreciate the memories it brought to her mind. Her body swayed in rhythm, dancing the sadness away. Failing to.

It wasn’t her day.

Not today.

Today, she was feeling lonely and melancholic for there was too much on her mind.

Conflicted thoughts and entwined feelings had invaded her being : there was no escape her loneliness.

Tina wanted to remain on her own, to have space to process everything her way. She needed someone by her side, someone who would understand her, and listen. She just needed someone to listen. She just needed him.

However, she knew she could always find Achilles in his apartment, where he said he would be, should she need him. He had actually suggested dinner tonight, to celebrate her travel to Paris. He had promised her the most romantic dinner. She had turned his invitation down. She couldn’t do this to him. She couldn’t spend the night with her companion when all she could think about was _him_. Couldn’t look at him in the eyes and tell him that she loved him when he wasn’t the face she imagined before closing her eyes each night. Couldn’t kiss him when all she felt was the careful brush of a certain hand against her cheek.

She knew exactly what she needed, but the thought of it alone was enough to break her barely beating heart. She wanted -- She needed him.

Tina thought about all the letters he had sent every since… well… ever since that day. All the letters she had burnt down before even opening them, out of anger and disappointment. What did they contain ? She would never know. And sometimes she regretted her actions. She had done what she thought was best for herself. She needed to protect her heart from all the pain he had caused.

She thought of all the letters she had almost sent, the one where she asked him explanations, the one where she had expressed her feelings. The one she had bleed her heart on. All those pieces of paper she had hidden from her sister and that had ended burnt in flames as well. Easier to let her feelings burn rather than facing them.

She always wondered how he was, what he did. What creatures he had brought home. What country he visited. If he was happy. Was he ? He had to be, right ? After all, he had everything he had ever wanted.

Her hand came to touch the lock of hair he had so slightly brushed, as her eyes watered in pain. She wondered whether he was thinking of her at all, in London. Whether he missed her the way she missed him. The auror flushed, head down in embarrassment. What kind of woman was she to have thoughts like this ? He was out of her reach.

Slowly, she made her way to the window, staring at the bright night above her head. Her heart clenched, her hand cupped the locket she always wore around her neck.

She couldn’t help it : he was in her mind, in her heart. Even after what he did. Even after breaking her heart. She couldn’t stop thinking about him.

Tina Goldstein was in love. How it all happened she wasn’t sure. It just did.

One day, he was a criminal she wanted to put behind bars, a strange man who annoyed her. The next day, he was the most extraordinary man to have ever had existed, a man who had opened his world for her to discover. His british accent that used to irritate her had bewitched her, and his beautiful eyes that seemed to hide secrets had become her favorite sight.

He made her heart beat faster. Made her smile for no reason. Whenever she thought of him, she would find herself floating on a bubble of happiness.

She was in love with him. With his green eyes. His genuine smile. His tousled hair she so desperately wanted to run her hand in. With the passion he conveyed. With the warmth of his touch. With the way he said her name, the way he wrote in his letters.

She was desperately in love with him. That what surely the reason why it hurt so much to be alone. Especially on this very special occasion.

 

“Happy birthday Newt.” She whispered on her balcony, as the clock struck seven.

 

Tina’s eyes filled with tears as retrieved from her enchanted pocket, her very own edition of _Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them._

The book he had promised to bring, and hadn’t. Her fingers slowly trailed on the magnificent cover she knew by heart.

She had purchased it on her own the very first day it had came out, excited to read about the creatures she had met, and those she hoped to come across someday. With him. Maybe.

She had devoured it within a night, and had read it more and more until every details were solidly inked in her mind. It was his life work after all. It was all of him between these pages.

The witch kept her copy close at all times for this was the only thing she had to remember him by. Whenever she read it, she could hear his soft voice telling her the most thrilling adventures. It was the only thing she had left of him. That, an a million of memories, hopes and dreams their encounter had induced.

Carefully, the brunette held it against her heart, glancing above her at a particularly shiny star. Somehow, it almost seemed like he was here, in New York, with her.

She felt utterly ridiculous, talking alone like this, imagining he could actually hear her. But she needed -- she needed to let him know.

She hadn’t forgotten about him.

She would never forget.

 

“I miss you.” She admitted at loud for the sky to hear. A single tear fell from her dark eyes. “I hope you are having… an amazing time with your -- with your fiancé.”

 

_Fiancé._

Tina bit her lips until she could feel the taste of blood in her mouth. The bitter taste of loneliness. Tears were flowing down her cheeks, salty pearls filled with despair and disappointment. Filled with betrayal and hurt. She let them roll in silence, holding on the book for her dear life, grasping at the cover as if it were her lifeboat.

He was getting married. To Leta Lestrange.

He was getting married. He still tried to talk to her.

Why would he do that ? How could he do that ?

And after a few seconds, Porpentina Goldstein closed her window hoping that she would find, in Paris, the peace she had been looking for in the quietness of the night.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you appreciated my story. Let me know if you did, your kind reviews and advices are my fuel to keep going <3 See you soon for another story !


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